Guardians
by Ice Queen1
Summary: William Queen isn't an idiot. He knows he can't save the city like his father does on a regular basis. But he can at least make a marginal effort in trying to protect his father from the city - and his former teammates. Character and relationship study between Oliver and William from William's point of view, because I feel like that kid gets terribly neglected in the fandom


So I was not feeling any of my other works in progress, and I hadn't written anything for Arrow, but $%^&* the episode with New Team Arrow vs Original Team Arrow pissed the hell out of me. I don't know if the writers are trying to make them as unlikable and unrelateable as they possibly can, or they actually are thinking that somehow, Rene, Dinah and Curtis aren't coming off as whiny little Gen X jackasses. Seriously. I hate them. I haaaaate them. So I decided to take the least used character in Arrowverse and give him the same opinion of Oliver that I did: that the poor guy needs a break from everyone blaming him for everything while they sit back and do nothing.

Anyway. Bitter rant over. Ish.

* * *

Occasionally, William missed his life in Central City. Partly because it was when his mom was alive, and he missed her so much sometimes it physically ached.

The other half was because things were normal. He'd never been kidnapped, and while he'd seen the city almost destroyed on several occasions, it always seemed distant and somewhat surreal. Because the Flash would save them, with his super powers and his super friends, and the collateral damage always seemed minimum, like the villains had specific issues with specific people instead of intent on causing widespread panic. And he lived far enough out of the metropolitan area that everything he saw was always on the news, never in person, up close and personal. His neighborhood was safe enough to play in the street, and have trick or treating after dark.

Living in Star City was…challenging, to put it politely. Even if he hadn't had Oliver Queen as his dad, there was something… _darker_ about this city. It always seemed overcast and gray and constantly under threat of _something_. Or someone. And from every different direction. There seemed to always be _hundreds_ of bad guys. Maybe one leader, like Damien Darhk, or Prometheus, or even Cayden James, sure – but they had what seemed like an unending army behind them. It seemed like Team Arrow was always fighting a hydra – take out one head, and two more came in behind it before the first one had fallen to the ground.

Central City and the Flash seemed to operate a one-for-one system, and good guys seemed to always outnumber the bad.

In Star City, William was losing count of bad guys.

And he could tell Oliver was too.

William hadn't really cared that he'd grown up with a single parent household. He was far from the only kid in his class or even his neighborhood that had only one parent. His mom had told him stories about his dad, always omitting his name and where he was, or even if he knew William existed at all. There weren't a lot – mostly it was just her reminding him that they had been young, and while maybe William hadn't been expected, he was loved all the same. His mom had never made him resent his absent father, or regret the way their lives were, because as far as he was concerned, their lives were perfect with just the two of them.

Oliver was sort of the opposite parenting style compared to his mom. The ultimate absent father figure, he was home late (if at all), gone before the sun was up, forgot things like homework and what day of the week it was and whether or not there was a parent-teacher conference he'd missed no less than five times.

At the same time, Oliver was hands down, without the shadow of a doubt, the ultimate helicopter parent – he was going to be there when it absolutely mattered. When Damien Darhk kidnapped him, a superhero wasn't the one to come and save him. When Prometheus had kidnapped him, Oliver was the one who flew across the world at the drop of a hat to come and rescue him – and recruited his former enemies to help him do it.

It was actually after Lian Yu that William realized something about his dad. Something that terrified him.

His father was _human_.

He bled. He broke. He failed.

Oliver could have just as easily been on that island if he hadn't come after William and Chase. And then William would've been alone in the middle of the south China sea, with a mad man. At best he could hope that if Oliver _hadn't_ made it to the boat, Chase would've thrown him overboard and let him take his chances with the sea and the raging inferno of the island. At worst, he would've had roughly ten seconds to mourn the loss of his parents before being sent to join them.

But he hadn't. And he didn't. Oliver ran to him like Chase said he would, and he watched as despite Oliver's best efforts, their entire world exploded around them.

It'd been a long trip home.

Some days, William felt like they were still on it.

William wasn't sure what he expected from Oliver as a dad, which seemed to work out because Oliver didn't seem know what to expect from him as a son. On Facebook, he'd seen a passing meme about someone unsure of what to do with kids. "Do I feed it? Stick it in the corner? Water it once daily?" He'd laughed out loud in the middle of study hall because if that didn't sum up the relationship between him and his father, he didn't know _what_ did.

Felicity stumbled through trying to help both of them, but William had trouble thinking of her as an adult with any form of authority. And Dig had his own family to worry about, but at least he had someone to help him with his kid.

After spending an admittedly brief time with the rest of his father's teammates, he was…less than impressed. One named Rene just seemed to complain, and Dinah didn't seem much better. Curtis was fun to talk to, but William got the feeling that maybe he really didn't know what he'd signed up for, and lacked anything resembling decisiveness. Quentin was pretty cool, though there was a tension between him and Oliver that suggested maybe they hadn't always been where they are now. He knew Oliver lost a really good friend and probably more when the last Black Canary died, and he wished he'd gotten to know her. Laurel still came up on the rare occasion that William convinced his dad to tell him something about what it was like growing up in Starling City. Laurel and the name Tommy came up a _lot_ – usually with a laugh, but it almost always ended with Oliver looking like someone sucker punched him in the gut.

William stopped asking.

The temporary smile wasn't worth that look on his dad's face. Maybe because he didn't like that he _knew_ that look. He'd seen it and felt it before on his own face when people asked about his mom. There were always the good memories at first. But they always ended the same – knowing she was dead, and never coming back.

A quick internet search on Tommy and Oliver Queen brought up Thomas Merlyn, childhood friend, party bro, business partner, and killed during something called 'The Undertaking' that almost leveled a section of the city called the Glades.

Whenever William felt like living with Oliver Queen was too much – under the spotlight, under a microscope, always under threat of a gun or someone else who wanted to punish Oliver for something they thought he'd done; when he wanted to go to his grandparents or take up Oliver's offer of sending him with a foster parent (someone who lived in Gotham, but William never let Oliver finish the sentence), William remembered how much his father already lost.

He would always miss his mom, but she was gone. But he didn't want to spend his life missing a dad who was still alive.

When William asked his dad to give up being the Green Arrow, he'd honestly thought that the rest of the team would pick up the slack. After all, when Flash would go missing, Vibe and Kid Flash and Jessie Quick and even Killer Frost and now Elongated Man would pick up the slack, and the city would continue to run. Maybe a few bumps and hitches along the way, but they still _did something_. Dig seemed competent enough, and Felicity would be their eyes in the sky and cyber world, and there were _five of them_. _And_ the SCPD. He'd seen the news. He'd heard Felicity and Dig talk about his dad and how _by himself_ , he managed to keep the city from being overrun more than once, and in his early days – without anyone but himself.

And yet…and _yet_ …

The city went to shit faster than he thought possible, and he'd thought he was being pretty generous when he originally imagined the learning curve for the team having to do their jobs without his dad. _Because it was their job._ Shouldn't they have been able to last, like, more than 30 days without Oliver? What happened when Oliver was injured? Out of town?

What happened if he was _dead_?

When he'd told his dad he understood why the city needed him as the Green Arrow, he hadn't mentioned that it was _because the rest of your team are as helpful as an anchor to a drowning man_. Maybe they just needed not to have his dad available to lean on, they would finally grow up and manage on their own.

But seriously. _Seriously_?

Way to set the bar _lower_ than William thought it was already at. They'd lasted less than a month before his dad has to go back to being the Green Arrow. His dad had tried to hide it from him, but by the time he'd gotten home from all day as the mayor, all night fighting bad guys as Green Arrow, he was too damn tired to convincingly lie to his son.

When his dad openly admitted to being back to his vigilante duties, he'd really, _really_ fought to stifle the urge to look him dead in the eye and say ' _no shit'_. He could tell Oliver was a little surprised how easily he'd given in, but at the same time, he looked…relieved. Like he'd been expecting an argument, or more likely, had already had one and this would just be a continuation of it. When William hadn't made one, just smiled and shrugged that he understood even if he wasn't thrilled, Oliver visibly wilted, scrubbing a tired hand over his five o'clock shadow and apologizing again about having to break his promise.

In that moment, William made a decision. Since no one else seemed willing or maybe even capable of it, he was going to protect his dad.

He wasn't stupid. Or delusional. He knew trying to save Oliver Queen was like trying to hold water in a sieve. But dammit all if he didn't at least _try_.

So he learned how to cook. He knew bare bones stuff, like how to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or spaghetti from his mom, but he didn't want to survive on it. He'd tried to get Felicity to teach him, but as it turned out it was a miracle she survived into adulthood with her culinary skills, so the two of them turned to YouTube and the Food Network and Raisa helped when she could (once she'd stopped shaking her head and muttering about the crimes against food they were committing). He surreptitiously packed the leftovers into microwave safe containers and left them where his dad would remember them.

He tried not to pry about Oliver's day, but would listen when he _did_ talk about it. Oliver didn't discuss things in great detail – not as the Green Arrow, anyway. He _would_ talk about the day at the Mayor's office, but some days he didn't say anything about it all. When he wandered into William's room in the evening to see what he was up to, William knew whatever it'd been, it was a bad one, and he would offer the spare controller to him and they would spend the next few hours not saying anything except the occasional smack talk about the game.

Some nights Oliver would come home in the middle of the night, too tired to even make it to bed and would just fall face first onto the couch and not move again until the alarm went off at six. He was always quiet, and if William had been asleep, he would never have heard him. But William didn't sleep the nights his dad was out. He stayed in bed, staring at a dark ceiling or reading on his phone, but he didn't sleep. Partly because he would always wonder if _this_ was the night Oliver Queen would find someone that was tougher than he was. Partly because he had his own nightly ritual when it happened.

Like tonight.

The clock read shortly after 3:00AM, and William heard the soft click of the door unlocking. The barest hint of a squeak as Oliver opened and shut the door behind him. The quiet padding of suddenly bare feet across the floor. A soft grunt of exhausted relief at finally being able to rest, and the shift of fabric on leather as his dad sank into the sofa.

He'd never really gotten an answer from his dad about why, when drop dead exhausted, he wouldn't go to his room to his bed, but Dig had provided some insight. Oliver apparently didn't sleep well around other people, even Felicity, especially when he was truly tired. And sometimes, a bed was too soft and warm. It made sense, actually, once William thought about it. Oliver had been not-quite-human for over a decade now. He may not know _all_ of what happened to him, but he could make some educated guesses. Especially after looking up the news from the day Oliver was found alive after being missing for five years. Eleven years of constantly being on guard and sleeping in less than favorable conditions, a bed didn't quite feel right, nor did sleeping in close quarters with someone else.

He knew _he_ woke up often enough in the throes of the memory of Lian Yu. And he'd only been there for a few hours.

William waited twenty minutes before slowly easing out from underneath his blankets, tip toeing barefoot across the floor and slipping sideways through the gap in his sliding doors.

The enormous windows that ran the entire length of the loft meant it was never truly dark, and after hours of staring into the darkness of his room, his eyes needed little time to adjust. When they did, sure enough, there was his dad, passed out on the couch still fully dressed, though at least not in a suit. He must've known he was going to do little more than collapse as soon as he got through the door because the clothes actually looked comfortable for once, well-worn and soft.

William took a minute to survey what he could see of Oliver. Not bruises, cuts or broken limbs that he could see. No white bandages or braces. Dark, bruise like shadows under his eyes, but more likely from exhaustion than actual broken blood vessels.

 _Good_ , he thought to himself. He saved him from having to go get the ice bag from the freezer he'd started keeping there in the last few weeks. He didn't give it directly to his dad – he just set it on the couch near his head, and eventually, at some point in the night, Oliver wound up with it pressed gratefully against whatever bruises or aches he had. If Oliver knew it was him and not Felicity that left it there, he never said.

Instead, William reached for the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch, unfolding it quietly and holding it slightly over his dad before letting it go.

Oliver didn't wake up, per say, but he did react. He gave a muffled grunt into the couch cushion, fumbling for the edge of the blanket with his hand before he pulled it up under his chin, kicking on leg slightly to make sure the bottom half draped over his legs before settling back into sleep.

Satisfied his dad wasn't going to freeze, William finally picked up the forgotten phone from the coffee table, about to switch it to silent instead of vibrate when the screen suddenly lit up, so bright in the darkness he flinched against it, squinting at the name.

He swore vehemently in his head, in language he _knew_ his dad wouldn't appreciate him knowing.

Quickly but quietly, William made his way back to his room, phone clenched in his hands. He slid the decline button over at least once, but after a few seconds, the phone buzzed again with the same caller.

As soon as he slid the door closed, he picked up.

" _Did you seriously just ignore my call?_ "

"Yes, yes I did, because it's after three in the morning and some people need sleep," William hissed

" _Oliver_?"

" _Really_? I sound like a 32 year old man to you?"

" _Then who the hell - **William**_? _What are you doing with your dad's phone_?"

"Making sure you don't call him. He _just_ got home. Whatever the hell your problem is, solve it on your own."

" _William, give the phone to your dad. We need his help with –_ "

"I don't care if a thermonuclear war is about to break out. You're an adult. You wear a costume same as he does. _Solve it on your own_."

" _William-_ "

"Did. I. Stutter. Or as you about to admit that you're as useless as I think you are? You're your own team now. That means _you fix it on your own_ , or take off the masks and own up to the fact that the three of you can't manage squat without my dad holding your hand, or cleaning up after you."

There was silence at the other end for a few seconds before a new voice came over the line.

" _Wil_ -"

He didn't even let them finish his name.

"It's 3AM and I'm 11 years old. If you call back again tonight, I will not be held responsible for the decisions I make, and I will get Felicity and Aunt Thea to help me make your lives as miserable as you're making Dad's, and don't think for a second they won't jump at the chance."

"… _you little_ …"

"I'm hanging up. Do not call again. Tonight, or any other."

He could hear a tinny protest of indignant rage over the speaker as he pressed 'end call'. He powered down the phone, and stuffed it under his pillow just in case Curtis had some remote way of turning it back on.

He was almost too mad to sleep, and even though it would do nothing except wake his dad up, he _really_ wanted to throw the phone. Or smash it with a hammer.

Sometimes, he knew, Oliver worried he'd inherited his temper from him. But William knew beyond a doubt, he'd gotten it from his mom. Oliver didn't really _have_ a temper, not the way his mom did – he just had a line that people seemed to like pushing him over, no matter how hard he tried not to let them.

He quietly poked his head out past the door to see if his whispered argument had woken his dad, but Oliver hadn't moved. The fact that he wasn't snoring meant nothing – Oliver was a near silent sleeper. He didn't move, he didn't snore, and for the most part, he was also a really _light_ sleeper. If he _had_ woken, he hadn't stayed that way.

William left the door cracked open before creeping back to his own bed, pulling the blankets up under his chin.

He might not be able to save the city like his dad did. But he could at least try and protect him _from_ it. Even if it was just letting him sleep through one night.

* * *

Author's Note: Ta daaaa! My first Arrow fic. I'm contemplating writing more to it, and not gonna lie, I kind of want there to be a phone call between Oliver and Bruce Wayne with Oliver asking parenting tips from Bruce since he has like half a dozen kids by now, and they seem to turn out okay. Also, William is definitely written like the 11 year olds I know, who have had a bit of a rough life. Which is why he sounds the way he does, and not all footloose and fancy free like kids ought to. Besides. He IS Oliver Queen's kid.

Anyway, let me know what you think, and feel free to come and chat with me on tumblr disappearinginq


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